


she is gone (but she used to be mine)

by alyciaclebnam



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: F/F, this is 15k words of modern day shakespearean tragedy tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 23:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5394644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyciaclebnam/pseuds/alyciaclebnam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl wakes up in hospital with severe retrograde amnesia. She remembers nothing but the name Camila, and decides to embark on a journey of self-(re)discovery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	she is gone (but she used to be mine)

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for allusions to suicide.

She is floating.

That’s what it feels like, anyway.

A gentle hum and steady beeping accompany her dreamlike state, as soothing as the soft ticking of a clock. She smiles; she has always appreciated a little white noise to help lull her to sleep.

But gravity, the natural phenomenon that it is, always pulls you down eventually.

***

She opens her eyes.

Everything is blindingly white. Her brain feels like it is pounding against her eardrums. Her limbs are heavy and even though she wills them to move, she can barely lift her forearms. The feeling of being trapped becomes overwhelming and she tries to scream, but her dry throat only allows her to emit a strangled groan.

She struggles against the dead weight of her body, and the once gentle beeping turns harsh, filling the room. The strain of fighting for control of her own limbs brings tears to her eyes and when the first falls, the rest quickly follow.

Caught up in her personal struggle, she fails to notice the door to the stark white room slamming open. It isn’t until a face is hovering above her own and hands are firmly gripping her shoulders that she realises she’s no longer alone.

“Ma’am, I promise you’re not in any danger,” The stranger says, urging her to look into their eyes. “You were in an accident and you’re currently in the hospital. I’m Doctor Kelly – I’ve been looking after you since you came in. Try not to struggle too much, okay? You might feel groggy for a little while, but it’s nothing to be concerned about at this stage.”

Doctor Kelly smiles softly. She relaxes as much as she can – the doctor’s news is somewhat relieving – but her breathing is still erratic and so is the beeping of what she now realises is a heart rate monitor.

She tries to speak again, but she remembers how dry her throat is and signals for a glass of water. Doctor Kelly walks over to the bench on the far side of the room and pours water from a pitcher into a plastic cup. She brings it back to her bedridden patient and, after raising the hospital bed into a sitting position, hands over the cup.

When the cup runs dry, she asks the doctor, “What happened?”

Doctor Kelly takes the empty cup and begins to explain as she returns it to the bench. “You were found on the ledge of a cliff. A group of hikers called it in yesterday. They said you didn’t have any equipment and it looked like you might have fallen while free climbing. Does any of that ring a bell?”

She shakes her head but winces when the movement makes the room spin. Doctor Kelly gently tells her to refrain from making harsh head movements.

“You’ve likely suffered head trauma from the fall. Since you were unconscious when you came in and we couldn’t perform any other tests to assess the severity of the trauma, we ran an emergency CT scan,” The doctor clarifies. “It was all clear, so we decided to keep you under observation until you woke up. You have no serious injuries to the rest of your body, just a few scrapes and bruises which are presumably from the landing.”

The girl frowns. Doctor Kelly continues.

“Now that you’re awake, I’d like to perform a few tests to assess your neurological and cognitive status. Would that be okay with you?”

Sensing that she has no other choice, the girl agrees.

“Can you tell me your name?” The doctor asks.

The girl blinks. Nothing comes to mind. She quietly says no. She wonders if not knowing her own name is a bad sign, but Doctor Kelly’s kind brown eyes give nothing away.

“Can you remember anything from before the accident?” The doctor asks instead.

When nothing comes to mind, she frowns. “I don’t know. I-I can’t… _remember_ , I-” She stammers, and that’s when the anxiety begins creeping in.

She tries to remain calm despite the emptiness in her head but her heart rate monitor betrays her and it begins to beep faster.

Doctor Kelly rests a comforting hand on her forearm. “It’s okay. There’s no need to stress. Memory loss is common side effect of head trauma, and everything is likely to return with time.”

“What if it doesn’t come back?” The girl asks uneasily, eyes flickering between the doctor and the still-erratic display on the screen of her heart monitor. “You can’t make any promises, can you?”

Doctor Kelly shakes her head with a tight-lipped smile. “You’re right, I can’t make any promises. But positive thinking leads to faster recovery and that’s all you should focus on, okay?”

Though she is sceptical, the girl agrees. It’s not like she has much choice, anyway.

***

Doctor Kelly runs a few more tests to assess her neurological condition, and affirms that she has a grade 3 concussion.

“Despite your sluggishness – which is to be expected after an accident like yours – your gross motor skills are good. Your coordination and balance are also good, same with your reflexes. There are no problems with your vision and hearing,” The doctor relays with a small smile. “The only injury you have seems to be-”

“Complete memory loss,” The girl finishes forlornly.

Doctor Kelly nods sympathetically. There is an awkward moment of silence before her face brightens and she appears to recall something. The girl raises an eyebrow at her.

“There is one thing that I’ve forgotten,” The doctor says as she steps back over to the bench on the other side of the room. “You were found with a wallet in your pocket.”

She opens one of the drawers and pulls out something small and black. The zip glints metallically in the light. She hands it to the girl, who examines it thoughtfully. The wallet is tiny; there are only two card slots and room for one photograph. The card slots are empty, and the photo holder has a folded picture inside. There is maybe a hundred dollars cash – comprised of twenties and smaller notes – tucked away at the back of the wallet.

“There’s nothing in there but the photo and the money,” Doctor Kelly confirms.

The girl slips the photo out, unfolding it gently. When she looks at the two people captured on the glossy film, her heart aches and she takes in a shaky breath. Her reaction garners a worried “what’s wrong?” from Doctor Kelly. She shakes her head even though it hurts to do so, because she can’t speak. Not quite yet. The doctor seems to understand, and allows her a moment to just breathe.

She hesitantly looks at the photograph again and is met with the bright eyes and flushed cheeks of two young girls, but she can only really focus on one of them. The one with warm brown eyes – _Camila_ , her heart whispers – has her tongue caught between her teeth in an endearingly cute smile. Her right hand, for some strange reason, is holding a tiny potted cactus. The fingers of her left hand are entangled with the other girl’s. The other girl has vibrant green eyes that look somewhat familiar. She examines the photo for a little while longer.

The girl breaks her silence with a single word. “Camila.”

Doctor Kelly eyes her curiously.

“Her name is Camila,” She clarifies, pointing at the brown-eyed girl.

Doctor Kelly nods. “So that would make you Lauren?”

The girl frowns up at the doctor. “I’m sorry, what?”

Gesturing towards the picture, Doctor Kelly tells her to turn it over. The loopy writing on the back says ‘Lauren + Camila’ and she breathes a soft “oh” in recognition.

That’s why the other girl seemed familiar. She was looking at herself.

***

Unfortunately, her own name and Camila’s name are all she can remember. Doctor Kelly assures Lauren that though it might not be much, it would be enough. The police are notified of her name and description, and the search for her identity begins.

***

Lauren hoped that they would find something sooner than later but it’s been two weeks and she has no new information on herself. The doctors have been running all sorts of tests to jumpstart her memory but nothing is working.

She is still just _Lauren_.

***

A clue to unlocking the mystery of who she is comes in the form of a tiny slip of paper folded four times over. Lauren had been examining her wallet for the third time when she found it.

(The hospital room had become her home since she had nowhere else to go, and she had no other personal belongings. There wasn’t much else to do aside from fiddle with it.)

The folded paper is hidden in the corner of the photo holder of her wallet, overshadowed by the photograph of Camila and herself. She unfolds it carefully, wary of how worn the paper looks; she doesn’t want to ruin it in case it ends up being important.

And it is – important, that is.

The address is faded but still legible, written in neat cursive.

***

She decides to leave. She shouldn’t be going anywhere – the doctors are planning to do more tests to try and jog her memory – but that doesn’t stop her from leaving. The hospital laundry service has thankfully washed the clothing she was found in, and have been kind enough to donate a few other articles of clothing for her to wear during her stay. She packs them into the cloth bag that they were given in, grabs her wallet, and goes.

She has more than enough money to take a taxi to the address on the paper. It leads to an apartment in East Harlem, in an area that Lauren doesn’t remember but still feels familiar.

She knocks on the door. No one answers. She attempts to peek through the front window but the curtains are drawn and it is dark inside. She knocks again but to no avail. It’s then that she notices the potted cactus sitting on the far end of the windowsill. She recalls the picture in her wallet, and what Camila holds in her right hand.

Lauren lifts the cactus and finds a key taped to the bottom of the pot. She breathes a laugh. She doesn’t know anything about Camila aside from her name, but she feels like the girl would say that the situation is perfectly serendipitous.

As expected, the key unlocks the front door. Lauren lets herself into the apartment. It doesn’t feel lived in at all. Something feels inexplicably _empty_ about the place despite the meagre furniture strewn around.

Lauren surveys the joint living room and dining space with a careful eye. The furniture is bare, and the boxes piled in the corner indicate that whatever belongings were here had been packed away, or maybe never unpacked in the first place. There is a single photo frame on the kitchen table, laying face down. She hesitantly flips it over.

It’s another picture of herself and Camila. They look younger than they do in the photo in her wallet. Lauren has her left arm wrapped loosely around Camila’s waist, and Camila’s right arm is behind Lauren’s back, two fingers popping up behind the green-eyed girl’s head. They are both smiling happily at the camera.

Lauren leaves the frame face up on the table and wanders towards the back of the apartment. The first bedroom is as bare as the other rooms. The second bedroom has a couple of boxes. On the floor in front of the bed – which was nothing more than a mattress on a frame – is a large box labelled ‘Lauren’. Beside it is a smaller box labelled ‘Camila’.

It’s enough to conclude that the apartment is probably Lauren’s own. She doesn’t know why Camila has her own box, but she reasons that there are a _lot_ of things she doesn’t know right now, so she doesn’t spare it too much thought.

She decides to search through the boxes to try and find out more but, strangely enough, there is nothing really personal within either of them. She only finds clothes and shoes in both boxes, and a roll of cash in the ‘Lauren’ box.

Lauren sighs. She has found something and nothing all at the same time.

She debates whether she should stay in the apartment for the night – seeing as it is likely her own place – but the idea of staying makes her feel weirdly uncomfortable. Something about the apartment makes her feel empty, like there is something missing.

Lauren thinks that there is already enough of her that is missing, so she chooses to go.

She pokes around in the wardrobe for a bag, thankfully finding a large duffle, and packs some clothes and shoes. Hoping that the roll of cash is hers, she tucks it into a pocket of the bag. As she exits the bedroom and walks back through the dining room, she glances at the photo frame on the kitchen table.

After a moment of indecision, she stows their smiling faces in her bag as well.

***

Lauren decides that she will have to find out who she really is. The police have been unsuccessful, and so have the hospital staff. There is no other option.

***

Across the street from the apartment is an array of small businesses – restaurants, coffee shops, and independent grocery stores – and Lauren supposes she will start there. She methodically works her way down the street, showing people the photo from her wallet and asking if they recognise herself or Camila.

No one does.

***

Coming to a small coffee shop on the corner of the block, Lauren wearily shows the picture to the only person working the counter.

“Oh! Yeah, I know her!” The doe-eyed barista says with a grin. She points at Camila. “She’s the cutie who always ordered two coffees – a macchiato with extra foam and a cappuccino with caramel drizzle.”

The coffee order sparks a flash of recognition in Lauren’s mind, and she realises that one of them is hers. It’s not a useful discovery in the grand scheme of things but it’s a discovery nonetheless.

“She always joked about ordering a grande from Grande-”

Lauren looks down at the barista’s nametag – Ariana Grande – and rolls her eyes fondly. Ariana seems to agree with her sentiment.

“-and I kept telling her that this isn’t Starbucks; she was really just asking for a medium. She never got the message though.”

Lauren’s expression turns hopeful. “Do you know anything else about her? Or where I can find her?”

Ariana shakes her head apologetically. “Sorry. She hasn’t come to the shop in about a year, and I really only know her coffee order.”

Lauren smiles sadly and thanks Ariana for her time.

***

She continues asking around but no one else seems to recognise her or Camila. Feeling defeated and exhausted, Lauren locates the nearest hotel and plans to book the cheapest room she can.

She heaves her duffle through the revolving front door and dumps it at her feet once she reaches the reception desk. When she looks up, a girl wearing a brilliant smile greets her.

“Hello! What brings you back here? Apartment troubles again? If so, you’re in luck – there’s onemore room available for tonight. And I’m feeling generous because it’s my last night here, so I’m willing to give it to you half-price!”

Lauren is surprised, to say the least. Her search has been more or less unsuccessful so far, and she was just about ready to give up and return to the hospital. She forgets to answer the girl’s questions, too busy reaching into her pocket to retrieve the folded picture and thrust it towards the receptionist.

“Do you know who I am? Or who she is?”

The receptionist’s smile dims somewhat. Lauren hastens to explain.

“I got into an accident and now I have amnesia. I don’t know who I am or who she is. I just know that my name is Lauren, and that the other girl in that picture is named Camila.”

The receptionist looks sympathetic.

“I’m Ally,” She reintroduces herself. “We met a few years ago, when you stayed here the first time.”

“So I’ve stayed here before?” Lauren questions confusedly. “Do you know why? I have an apartment not too far from here… I don’t get why I’d come to a hotel instead. Not that there’s anything wrong with this place, just-”

Ally cuts her off with a tinkling laugh. “Hey, no need to explain. I won’t take offense. I remember you said your apartment had to undergo some sort of emergency evacuation and building check last time, and you’d been temporarily kicked out. The landlord could only give you so much money to cover alternative accommodation, and you guys were almost broke because you’d just moved here from Miami – this is where you ended up.”

Insightful as it is, the information is not really helpful to Lauren. Of course, she could somehow travel to Miami and find out where she came from before she moved to New York, but she has no idea where to even _start_ that kind of search. Searching the whole of New York City isn’t a much better alternative, but at least she knows that she’s lived here for a while now, and there might be other people like Ariana or Ally that could give her clues.

Lauren thanks Ally for the information. Then she realises what Ally has said.

“Wait, you said ‘you guys’ – as in, me _and_ Camila? We came here together?” Lauren asks.

Ally simply nods. “As far as I’m aware, y’all were living in that apartment together.”

 _We must have been close friends_ , Lauren surmises. The fact that they were roommates would also explain the box labelled ‘Camila’ back at the apartment.

“Of all the people that must pass through this hotel, why do you remember us?” Lauren asks the receptionist, curiosity lacing her tone.

Ally grins. “You and Camila were my first ever guests! It was my first night on the job, and y’all were so funny – Camila was complaining because she was tired from walking to the hotel so you piggybacked her all the way up to your room. But then you had to double back for your luggage because you didn’t have enough hands. I offered to help but you said you liked taking care of her. It was really cute, to be honest.”

Lauren smiles softly, wistful for a memory that she cannot even remember.

***

She tells Ally about how there is nothing in the apartment – nothing that would help her find out who she is, at least. She tells her how the police and the hospital have been searching as well, but they have come up empty-handed too.

When her sentences become punctuated with yawns, Ally directs Lauren to her assigned room and gently ushers her inside.

The hotel room is modest but she is too tired to care about anything other than the fact that it has a bed. Lauren collapses on top of the covers without even removing her shoes, and falls asleep within seconds.

***

It is dark and someone is shaking her shoulder. Lauren sleepily swats at the person before remembering that she is supposed to be alone in a hotel room. She jerks upright with a gasp.

Ally stands beside her bed, looking entirely apologetic.

“What’s- is there a fire?” Lauren asks blearily, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“Oh gosh, no, I just…” Ally trails off, suddenly looking sheepish.

“What is it then?” Lauren asks confusedly. She flicks on the lamp that is sitting atop the nightstand and squints at her company. “Is everything okay?”

“You know how you said you have no leads on finding out who you are?” Ally asks instead of answering the question.

Lauren’s sleepy expression slowly becomes inquisitive.

“I might have something that could help?” Ally says with a hopeful smile.

She pulls out a folded square – Lauren thinks it is a piece of paper at first, but then she realises it is a napkin. The napkin bears a handwritten name and address – somewhere in Baltimore, Maryland.

“What does this have to do with me?” Lauren asks perplexedly.

Ally explains, “You guys left it behind during your last stay at the hotel.”

Lauren raises an eyebrow. The question is obvious – why did they keep it? – and Ally does not hesitate to answer.

“The hotel staff like to play a game with the lost-and-found items – kinda like that game where you make up backstories for people when you’re people-watching? Except we do it with the stuff they leave behind,” Ally clarifies. “Most of the things aren’t worth keeping, but sometimes we get more personal things like teddy bears or journals. We even found an engagement ring once.”

“And you decided to keep an old napkin?” Lauren asked amusedly.

Ally gives her a winning smile. “We like to keep it if it’s got a phone number or an address, like your case. You wouldn’t believe how many get left behind. We even occasionally call the numbers when we’re bored. Unsurprisingly, a lot of them are for, uh-” She blushes a little before quietly saying, “-night time entertainers.”

Lauren grimaces. “TMI, Ally.”

Ally just laughs. “Anyway, that’s why we kept it. Took me a while to find it in the back room, but I got it eventually.”

“How do you even know it was from our room?” Lauren questions, fiddling with the edge of the napkin.

“The day you checked out was a slow one, and there was another person working the reception desk with me. The boss said one of us might as well make ourselves busy. I decided to offer cleaning staff a hand and ended up with your room. I realised it was your room because I remembered the room number from when you checked in,” Ally shrugs. “It also helps that I’m a sentimentalist – it was my first night on the job and I pretty much remember every guest I checked in. I’m glad it was you that came back and not Mr Mahone; he’s a sleazebag if ever I’d seen one.”

Lauren gives her a grateful smile, touched that she had remembered her after all these years. “Thanks, Ally. I’ll figure out how to get to the address in the morning.”

Ally returns her smile, but it is only fleeting.

“Do you have a ride?” She asks, brows furrowed in concern.

“Uh, no,” Lauren says sheepishly. “But I’m sure I’ll find a way. It’s the only lead I have, and I have no other option but to follow it.”

Ally’s smile suddenly returns in full force. “I’ll drive you there!”

Lauren’s eyes widen at her enthusiasm. “Oh, no, Ally, I can’t ask you to-”

“Nonsense, I’m offering,” Ally cuts in cheerfully, her smile never wavering.

“You’re willing to drop everything to drive a stranger across three states?” Lauren asks sceptically. “I don’t know anyone that would actually do that.” She pauses, and then corrects herself. “Well, I don’t really know anyone at _all_ right now because of the amnesia but that’s beside the point.”

Ally chuckles. When it dies down, she sighs and a contemplative look passes across her face.

“I don’t know if you remember, but I told you earlier that tonight is my last night on the job,” She says. “With you coming back here – the first guest I ever checked into the hotel – it’s like I’ve come full circle. Does that really sound like a coincidence to you?”

Lauren feels like she isn’t the type to believe in fate, but Ally looks pretty damn convinced. Several seconds pass in silence, then she nods once.

Ally practically squeals. “Oh good, I’ve always wanted to go on a road trip!” She exclaims, clapping her hands together in excitement. “I’ll come wake you in the morning and we’ll head off!”

As the receptionist departs, Lauren flops back down onto her bed.

Well. That didn’t go at all how she expected it to.

***

They are two hours into their four-hour trip, and Lauren is starting to regret accepting Ally’s offer.

“Don’t get me wrong… I am _so_ grateful that you offered to drive me all the way to Baltimore,” Lauren begins hesitantly. “But if I have to sit through one more round of _I Spy_ , I might jump out of the window.”

Much to her relief, Ally doesn’t get offended. She just laughs. “Why didn’t you say something? I got bored of the game before we even left New York.”

“You seemed like you were having fun,” Lauren says somewhat defensively. Ally glances over to see the pout forming on her face and laughs again. “I didn’t want to ruin whatever vibe you had going, okay? Besides, why did you even keep playing if you got bored so long ago?”

“I thought _you_ were having fun,” Ally answers calmly, after having returned her focus to the road.

“Well, I think we can both agree that we’ve played enough rounds of _I Spy_ to last a lifetime,” Lauren says decisively. She smooths out the napkin that has been sitting on her lap for the entire trip so far. “Do you know anything about thisNormani Hamilton?”

 _Normani Hamilton_ is the name written on the napkin, just above the address that Ally has confirmed as being in the middle of Baltimore.

“Nope,” Ally replies. “I checked everywhere – Google, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter. There’s nothing that matches that name anywhere.”

“And the address?”

“A small diner in the Baltimore Metropolitan Area,” Ally rattles off, like she’d researched it thoroughly. “Specialises in southern cuisine.”

“Why would someone give me the address for a diner in Baltimore?” Lauren muses.

“Maybe it was a recommendation?” Ally suggests.

Lauren hums. “All the way out in Maryland though? What would I even be doing in Maryland?”

Unlike before, Ally doesn’t have any answers for her. Lauren slumps in her seat, staring at the Baltimore address and the name _Normani Hamilton_ until her eyelids grow heavy.

***

Ally wakes Lauren when they reach their destination. She stretches with a groan, and her joints pop and crack like she’s a hundred years old.

“When did I fall asleep?” Lauren asks after a final satisfying crack of the knuckles.

“Just after we reached the border between Delaware and Maryland. About an hour ago, I think,” Ally answers.

Once she is satisfied that all the automatic windows are closed, she switches off the car and they both step outside into the early afternoon sun. Ally allows Lauren a moment to collect herself before they venture into the two-storey diner, endearingly called _Mama Babs_.

The building’s interior looks exactly how southern cuisine feels. The dark wood panelling and warm lighting makes the place feel like a home away from home. There are a fair few patrons scattered about the place, likely from the back end of the lunchtime crowd. A waitress suddenly appears before them and Lauren is so startled that she has to take a step backward.

The waitress gives a hearty laugh before apologising.

“Table for two?” She asks politely but doesn’t wait for any confirmation, leading Ally and Lauren straight to an unoccupied table.

She hands them two menus with a charming smile and says, “I’ll come back in five minutes to take your orders. If you’re ready before then, just flag myself or another one of the wait staff down and we’ll attend to you as soon as possible!”

Lauren can’t get a word in edgeways before the waitress flounces off and disappears around a corner – where to, the green-eyed girl has absolutely no idea.

Ally seems mildly amused by the entire exchange. Lauren scowls at her, and the receptionist simply puts her hands up in surrender. Then she grabs a menu, raises it to her eye level and proceeds to read the page titled _chef’s recommendations_. Lauren knows that Ally is just pretending to read in order to hide her laughter.

“I’m gonna find someone to talk to about this… _Normani_ thing,” The green-eyed girl says huffily.

Ally hums in acknowledgement, continuing to fake-read her menu. Lauren stands and glances around at the rest of the diner. There is only one other staff member in sight. He is standing by the kitchen doors, so she sidesteps her way around the tables until she is right before him. He’s busy writing something down on a pad of paper, so she clears her throat. He looks up and immediately focuses his attention on her instead of his paper and pen.

“Hi, are you looking for someone to take your order?” He asks with a cordial smile.

“I am looking for someone, but not to take my order,” Lauren says. At the waiter’s confused expression, she chuckles lightly and continues, “I’m looking for a Normani Hamilton? Is she part of the staff here?”

“Oh… yeah. More or less,” He says after he finally understands the attempted joke, and this time it is Lauren’s turn to be confused.

“More or less?” She repeats with a raised eyebrow.

One corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk before he clarifies, “I’m talking about Normani – she is more or less part of the staff.”

Lauren is about to say that his explanation didn’t really explain anything at all, but he jerks a thumb in the direction of the double-doors to the kitchen and speaks.

“She went ‘round back a couple minutes ago. If you don’t mind taking a seat somewhere in the diner, I’ll tell her to come find you.”

***

Barely two minutes later, the waitress from before returns to their table and proceeds to rattle off a few of her personal favourites from the menu.

“… and the beef brisket is always on point, but nothing can _ever_ beat the country fried chicken – you can trust my judgement on that because I’ve tried more variations of fried chicken than I can list on all my fingers and toes. The perks of being raised in H-Town, hey?”

Ally perks up at the mention of the city. “Oh, you’re from Texas too? San Antonio represent!”

The waitress grins and holds her palm out for a high-five. Ally slaps their hands together with a satisfying smack. They begin to talk about their beloved southern state and Lauren just looks between the two of them, deeply unimpressed.

 _Where is this Normani chick?_ She thinks to herself. _Maybe the waiter was just messing with me and she doesn’t even work here – he_ did _look pretty shady when I asked about her_.

Lauren’s patience begins to dwindle five minutes into the conversation – _their_ conversation, because she is clearly not contributing to it at all – and maybe it’s a combination of frustration (from _still_ not figuring out who she is) and exhaustion (from her interrupted sleep last night and the trip to Baltimore), but at some point she reaches the end of her tether. She interrupts their discussion with a feigned apology and introduces the more important matter at hand.

“I’m looking for Normani Hamilton.”

The waitress pins her with a dry expression, and it makes Lauren feel like she has rudely interrupted a political discussion between the President and Vice-President, not two girls who are debating whether deep-fried butter is worth clogging their arteries. Before Lauren gets a chance to give a genuine apology, the waitress speaks.

“You’re looking _at_ Normani Hamilton.”

Lauren’s mouth snaps shut. She stares blankly at the waitress.

“… Right. Um. Well.”

Her words are failing her, so she reaches into her pocket for her wallet instead. She unzips it and pulls out the folded photograph of herself and Camila, and holds it up to Normani.

The waitress wordlessly takes the photo and examines it. After a moment, her gaze flicks back to Lauren. Then she holds the photo at arms length and glances between Lauren and her photographed counterpart. When she is seemingly done doing whatever it is she is doing, Normani gives a low whistle.

“ _Dang_. How long has it been?”

“Since the photo was taken?” Lauren asks confusedly. “I have no idea-”

“Not since the photo was taken,” Normani says with an eye roll, dropping the picture back into Lauren’s hands. “Since you last came to _Mama Babs_! Three years, maybe? Give or take a couple months…”

Lauren is still in shock. Ally gives her a comforting smile. Normani continues talking while she grabs a seat from an empty table and makes herself comfortable between them.

“You look different with darker hair,” She says, tugging at a lock of Lauren’s messy raven mane. She glances back down at the photo, where the younger Lauren is a brunette. “It’s a good different though – makes you look more fierce. And it really brings out your eyes.”

Lauren gives her a blank look.

“I almost didn’t recognise you!” Normani laughs light-heartedly, ignoring Lauren’s non-response. “But speaking of not recognising people… your expression tells me that you have probably forgotten who I am.”

Lauren finds her voice again and she chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah. Amnesia kinda does that to a person.”

It is Normani’s turn to be silent.

“Amnesia?” She questions with raised brows. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” Lauren says airily, lips popping around the ‘p’. She taps the side of her head. “Suffered some trauma in an accident and now I can’t remember a thing,”

“Not a single thing?” Normani asks incredulously.

“Didn’t even know my own name when I woke up in the hospital,” Lauren confirms with a tight-lipped smile.

Normani glances back at the picture. “You didn’t even remember Camila?”

Lauren’s gaze flickers to the picture as well, tracing over the tanned skin and warm eyes that she has now committed to memory. She debates telling them about the moment in the hospital when Doctor Kelly gave her the wallet, and she knew who Camila was the second she laid eyes on her.

She decides to come clean.

Instead of the surprised or stunned reaction that she was expecting from Normani – because how on earth does it make sense to remember another girl’s name before your own? – Lauren receives a knowing smile.

“Makes sense,” Normani says by way of explanation, nodding along to her unvoiced train of thought.

Lauren narrows her eyes at the cryptic words. “ _What_ makes sense?”

“Well…” Normani begins, pursing her lips in thought. But then someone calls her name from the kitchen and she startles. “Shoot, I forgot I was still on the clock. I gotta get back to work.”

She sends the girls an apologetic smile and stands. Lauren stops the waitress after she returns her chair back to its table, before she can run back to her job.

“Can we continue this conversation later?” Lauren asks. Normani’s name is called once more and she quickly admits, “I’m kinda desperate for any information you have on me.”

Normani gives her a sympathetic smile. “I can’t say for certain that anything I know about you will help, but I’ll give you everything I’ve got.”

Lauren nods, because anything is better than nothing.

“Can you two hang around for a couple hours? That’s when my shift ends,” Normani says hurriedly.

The girls agree easily, and they let the waitress get on her way.

Not even ten minutes later, Normani returns with two plates of sizzling fried chicken. She places them in front of Lauren and Ally with a wide smile.

“Mama Babs’ special country fried chicken,” She says with a grin. “Figured if I’m making you wait around, I should be a hospitable host and feed y’all first.”

“Oh, Normani, you shouldn’t have-” Lauren begins, but Normani cuts her off with a swift shake of her head.

“Don’t stress – it’s on the house!” She says cheerfully. “Anything for a friend.”

Before they can even think to thank her, Normani is whizzing back towards the kitchen. Ally fixes Lauren with a pointed look.

The green-eyed girl raises her brows. “What?”

“Seems like I’m not the only one who does nice things for strangers,” Ally tells her with a small smile.

(Five minutes into their meal, Lauren pauses and says, “Do either of you even _count_ as strangers? Even though I can’t remember it, I’ve obviously met both of you before so technically you haven’t done nice things for a _complete stranger_ …”

Ally tells her to accept the fact that people can be nice, and to shut up so she can enjoy her chicken in peace.)

***

Normani returns soon enough, and announces that they’ll go up to her place so that they can talk more. Suffice it to say, Lauren is puzzled when she leads them through the kitchen, then down a corridor and up a flight of stairs – she assumed that they would go out into the parking lot, get in a car and drive to her house.

There is only one door at the top of the steps. The waitress pulls a set of keys from her pocket and shakes them until she finds the right one.

When Normani unlocks the door, she pushes it open and says, “Welcome to my humble abode.”

While Ally steps inside to admire the architecture – dark and warm, similar to the diner downstairs – Lauren raises an eyebrow and looks at Normani.

“I didn’t know you lived above the diner.”

Normani looks confused for a moment before comprehension dawns on her face.

“Oh, right. Amnesia.”

After the three girls settle on the couch in the living room, Normani launches into a condensed version of her life story. Her mother built the diner below – named after her own mother and Normani’s grandma, Barbara – and it all belonged to Normani. When Normani’s mom felt she was getting on in years and it was growing harder to keep up with the fast-paced diner life, she signed everything over to her daughter and swapped the hectic above-diner-apartment for a quieter place down in Severna Park.

“And you still work as a waitress in your own diner?” Ally asks inquisitively.

Lauren hums in agreement. “Yeah, isn’t it exhausting having to waitress on top of all the other things you do to keep the place running?”

“I don’t mind the work,” Normani says honestly. “Managing the diner is fine and all, but it gets kinda boring sometimes. Waitressing is more hands-on and I like getting to know the staff instead of just telling them what to do. It also saves me the cost of hiring another waitress, so that’s another bonus.”

She gives them a reassuring smile before redirecting the focus back to Lauren and her amnesia.

“Tell me what you know,” Normani prompts. “And we’ll go from there.”

Lauren takes a moment to get her thoughts in order. “My first name is Lauren. I don’t know my last name.”

“Jauregui!” Ally supplies helpfully. “I remember from when I checked you in at the hotel the first time. I wasn’t aware you only knew your first name – I would have told you sooner if I’d known.”

Lauren brushes her off with a smile. She asks Ally to search her name up on her phone – seeing as she doesn’t have one of her own – and check if they can find more information online. They find a handful of social media accounts that belong to Lauren Jauregui, but unfortunately they are all set to private.

The green-eyed girl huffs a breath at the missed opportunities.

“Don’t worry,” Ally says, rubbing her arm reassuringly. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Lauren smiles at her, but it falls quickly and she turns to Normani instead.

“Speaking of social media accounts,” Lauren says with furrowed brows. “Do you not have any? We tried to look you up before we got here, but there was nothing online.”

“You were looking for Normani Hamilton, right?” Normani asks, and Ally and Lauren nod. “I mostly go by Normani Kordei when I’m online – Kordei is my middle name, and I just think it sounds prettier.”

“Well, that solves the mystery of that!” Ally says brightly. She then steers the conversation back to Lauren.

“Okay, so _now_ I know that my name is Lauren Jauregui. I have no idea how old I am-”

“I’m twenty-three this year so that means you are too,” Normani interjects. “We talked about birthdays last time you came to the diner. I can’t remember the exact date, but I know we were born in the same year.”

“Okay, so I’m either twenty-three or turning twenty-three,” Lauren begins again. “I came to New York from Miami. I currently live in an apartment in East Harlem. I was either in the process of moving in or moving out, judging by the boxes that I found there. Based on the picture in my wallet and the one I found back at the apartment, as well as the box of her clothes in my bedroom, I think Camila was my roommate and probably a close friend-”

Normani bursts into laughter and Lauren comes to an abrupt halt. The waitress is positively cackling, and the green-eyed girl has no idea why. She locks gazes with Ally who shrugs helplessly.

It takes a while but when Normani’s laughter dies down, Lauren addresses her with a raised brow. She doesn’t understand how anything that she said could be even remotely funny.

“Do you know something that I don’t know?”

Normani wheezes as she catches her breath. “Uh huh.”

Lauren gestures for her to elaborate.

“You and Camila were definitely not roommates,” Normani elucidates. “Well, I mean, yeah, _technically_ you were. But she wasn’t _just_ your roommate. Or a ‘close friend’ like you said before.”

“What does that even mean?” Lauren asks confusedly.

“You were dating,” Normani says with a grin. “Camila was your _girlfriend_.”

And suddenly everything makes sense. Well, _more_ sense than it did with her previous theory.

Normani’s words put all the other information into perspective – the photo in her wallet, the framed picture from the apartment, the box of Camila’s things in her bedroom, why Camila always ordered two coffees order at the cafe across the road, the cutesy interaction from their first stay at the hotel. It even explains why Lauren knew Camila’s name before her own.

Lauren re-evaluates all the information in her mind. The revelation brings about one important question.

“If Camila was my girlfriend, then where is she now?”

Normani purses her lips and exhales heavily through her nose. “It _has_ been a while since I last saw you. A lot can happen in three years.”

Lauren sighs. “You’re right. We could have broken up. That might explain why everything at the apartment is packed up – maybe we were both moving on.”

Ally wraps a comforting arm around her shoulders. “It’s just speculation at this point. Let’s try not to dwell on it, okay?”

Lauren gives a tiny nod and then says, “Well, that’s everything I know so far – my name, how old I am, where I live, where I’m from, and who I was dating. It’s not nearly enough to write an autobiography.”

Normani gives her a sympathetic smile.

“Okay, Normani,” Lauren addresses the waitress and tries to smile back in an attempt to liven the mood. “You probably know more about me than I do right now. What have you got?”

Normani casts her gaze around the room as she gathers her thoughts.

“It was late when you came into the diner, probably an hour before closing,” She recalls. “You were the only customers at the time, so when Camila started a conversation with me, I didn’t feel guilty for hanging around. The three of us talked for so long, and the conversation felt so natural; I almost forgot that I was working. When I asked what brought you to the diner, you said you’d finally pooled together enough money to rent an apartment in Manhattan. The two of you were on a road trip to New York because it was time to move in.”

“You’d only stopped in Baltimore because Camila wanted to re-enact the opening scene from _Hairspray_ – girl, she had you wrapped around her little finger – and _Mama Babs_ just happened to be nearby when Camila said she was hungry,” Normani says with a small smile. “Later on when I was bringing out your food, I overheard you talking about how you were running low on money and that you might have to settle for a tacky motel that night. I offered to let you stay at my place instead.”

“That was incredibly kind of you,” Lauren says, reaching out to gently squeeze Normani’s hand. “I’ve probably already said it, but thank you so much.”

Normani tells her it was no problem and continues on, “You guys came up here to the apartment, and we talked for a little while longer. I can’t remember much from that point, but I do remember that you’d just come from a friend’s place in Atlanta.”

Lauren perks up at the information. “Do you know anything about that friend?”

“I think her name was Deena or something? Diane? Actually, hold up a sec-” Normani sits up and reaches for the second shelf of the double-layered coffee table in front of them. She pulls out a folder that is overflowing with the amount of papers stuffed inside. As she opens it up and rifles through the documents, she explains, “Camila said your friend had a recipe for a bomb-ass homemade hot sauce that I should consider putting on the menu, and I think – oh, here we go.”

She pulls out a folded napkin – exactly like the one that Lauren has with Normani’s details, and she surmises that they must be napkins from the diner downstairs – and presents it to them with a flourish. Lauren takes the napkin and unfolds it curiously.

It has a phone number followed by the name _Dinah Jane Hansen_.

“Camila gave me her number and said I should call to ask about the recipe,” Normani explains. “I never got around to it but I remember keeping the details in this folder, along with all my other stuff regarding the diner menu. Hopefully she hasn’t changed her number in the last three years.”

Lauren glances between the napkin and Normani before saying, quite seriously, “I could kiss you right now.”

Normani wrinkles her nose. “Tempting, but I’m as straight as you are gay. If you were Beyoncé, on the other hand…”

“Duly noted,” Lauren chuckles. She redirects everyone’s attention back to the napkin. “So should I call Dinah now?”

“I don’t see why not,” Ally says reasonably. “If she was your friend before the accident, she’s probably your best bet at finding out who you really are.”

Lauren agrees, so Ally slips her phone from her pocket and hands it over with a smile. She courteously asks the green-eyed girl whether she wants some space while she makes the call.

Lauren hesitates. “Actually… do you mind staying with me? I already feel so alone in all this, and you’ve been making it a lot easier. I couldn’t have done any of this without you,” She admits.

Ally sends her a warm smile. “I’ll be right here then.”

“You too, Normani,” Lauren says to the waitress, who has been inching closer to the end of her seat, most likely wanting to give them some privacy. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Of course not,” Normani says, sliding back to sit fully on the couch. “You can make the call when you’re ready.”

Lauren dials the number and holds the phone to her ear. It rings once, twice, seven times before someone picks up.

_“Hello?”_

“Hi, is this Dinah Jane Hansen?” Lauren inquires.

A voice replies smoothly, _“Depends who’s asking.”_

“It’s Lauren,” The green-eyed girl says. For good measure, she adds, “Jauregui.”

There is ten seconds of silence before-

_“Girl, what the hell?!”_

The person on the other end exclaims so loudly that Lauren has to pull the phone away from her ear. Normani and Ally share a laugh at their tone, loud enough for the both of them to hear even though the phone is not on speaker.

_“Lauser! How long has it been? You haven’t come to see me since you and Camila did that road trip to your new place in NYC! And it’s been almost as long since either of you picked up the phone to call me. If I didn’t know you were busy being nerds at Columbia, I’d be offended.”_

Lauren doesn’t really know what to say to that, so she asks, “This _is_ Dinah, right?”

The person on the other end gives an affronted gasp.

_“Duh. Who are you and what have you done with Loser Jauregui?”_

Lauren gives an awkward bark of a laugh and says, “Well, about that…”

She hears scuffling and Dinah lets out an exclamation of pain, which is followed by a gaggle of childish laughter. She raises a brow.

“Dinah?”

 _“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. I’m at work and the kids are playing pranks,”_ Dinah explains. Lauren doesn’t know what she does for a living but she hums along anyway.

“So, the reason that I called-” She begins but Dinah’s quiet curse cuts her off.

_“Dang it. I have to go, Lauser. Snack time is over and the boys are getting rowdy.”_

Lauren tries to interrupt but Dinah leaves no room for discussion.

 _“You and Mila would be on semester break now, right? Come visit me! I’m still at the same place in ATL but I’ll text you the address in case you’ve forgotten. I know it’s a long drive but you guys love me too much to say no. Besides, you owe me for not even having the decency to call,”_ Dinah says this light-heartedly, so Lauren guesses that she’s not really angry about the lack of contact. _“I expect to see you within the week! Can’t wait to catch up!”_

She hangs up without waiting for a response. Lauren blinks and slowly lowers the phone from her ear. Ally’s text tone dings – it’s a message with Dinah’s address.

“What happened?” Ally asks worriedly, taking the phone back and pocketing it. “You didn’t even get to ask her anything.”

Lauren brushes aside the concern and asks her a question instead.

“How do you feel about driving to Atlanta?”

***

Ally agrees easily. Lauren is eager to leave as soon as she says yes, but Normani informs them that the trip to Atlanta would take at least ten hours. She offers them a place for the night and tells them they can leave in the morning.

***

Lauren and Ally head off the next morning with the promise to call Normani when they figure everything out. They reach Atlanta a couple hours after sundown, and eventually find the address that Dinah texted them.

It’s a quaint apartment block, only six storeys tall. The plain brick exterior is unassuming and Lauren barely spares it a glance as she heads into the building. She and Ally make their way up to the fifth floor, and knock on the door to apartment 5H. The door swings open, and a girl with a wide smile and bright brown eyes greets them. The smile immediately drops at the sight of Ally. The girl turns to Lauren and frowns.

“Where’s Mila?”

Lauren assumes that the name is short for Camila so she shrugs.

“I was hoping that you would be able to answer that, actually.”

***

“Amnesia? Like, full on amnesia?”

“The doctors said I have severe retrograde amnesia, yes,” Lauren confirms, sipping the coffee that Dinah offered once they finally made it through the front door. The three girls are sitting at the dining table as Lauren recaps her story to a bewildered Dinah Jane Hansen.

Dinah leans back in her seat and exhales heavily. “ _Damn_.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Lauren says with a somewhat self-deprecating chuckle.

“So you can’t remember _anything_ about your life before you woke up in the hospital?” Dinah questions, brows furrowed.

“Not really,” She answers honestly.

When both Dinah and Ally look at her curiously, she explains. “I have no actual memories from before the accident but sometimes things feel… familiar? Like Camila, for example.”

Dinah straightens in her seat and Lauren raises a brow. “You remember Camila?” She asks in a somewhat hopeful tone.

Lauren shakes her head, but she pulls out the photo from her wallet. She slides it over to Dinah. “When they gave me this photo at the hospital, I recognised her before I even recognised myself. I knew her name was Camila, and that she meant something to me, but that’s all. Normani is the one who told me that we were dating.”

Dinah smiles at the photo. “You know what, I’d still vote for you guys for cutest couple.”

When Lauren shoots her a puzzled look, she explains further.

“We went to high school together,” Dinah says. “I transferred to Miami midway through sophomore year and it was hard to make friends because everyone already had their own groups. You and Camila took me in even though no one else wanted to, and we became the best of friends.”

Dinah’s nostalgic expression makes Lauren yearn for the lifetime of memories that she cannot remember.

“When you guys got accepted to Columbia University at the end of senior year, I got scared,” Dinah admits. “I honestly didn’t think college was gonna happen for me, not with the kind of grades I had. But you guys convinced me to apply to a couple schools anyway, and I got lucky with Atlanta Tech. So that’s why we ended up where we ended up – you and Mila in New York, and me in Atlanta. We haven’t talked much since, to be honest.”

“Camila and I just stopped talking to you after we moved away?” Lauren asks with a frown. “That sounds like such a shitty thing to do.”

“It is what it is,” Dinah shrugs. “Plus, it’s not like we _never_ talked again after high school – we kept in contact for the first couple of years, at least.”

“Still…” Lauren trails off. “It makes me feel bad.”

“I’m not bitter,” Dinah assures her. “I know how serious you two are about school. And I know that you guys would be there for me if I really needed you.”

“Speaking of Camila and I,” Lauren begins. “Do you know where I can find her?”

Dinah shakes her head. “The last time I heard from you guys was a little over a year ago, and you were both still in your apartment in New York.”

Lauren sighs. “When I went back to the apartment, everything was packed in boxes. It looked like we were moving out.”

Dinah wrinkles her nose. “Yeah… I can’t say I have an explanation for that.”

Lauren sends her a tight-lipped smile. “I didn’t think you would, but thank you for trying.”

“I do have Camila’s number though,” Dinah says, picking her phone up off the table. She unlocks it and taps the screen a few times. “You can call her if you want.”

Dinah hands the phone over and Lauren takes it with an unexplainably clammy hand.

“Want me to clear out while you make the call?” Dinah asks, half rising from her seat.

Lauren shakes her head. She asks Ally to stay as well; the former receptionist just reaches over and squeezes her free hand comfortingly.

When Lauren presses the call icon, the phone doesn’t even ring.

_“We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again.”_

With a heavy sigh, she hangs up and returns Dinah’s phone.

“No luck?” Ally asks gently.

Lauren exhales heavily through her nose. “It says the number is disconnected.”

Dinah shoots her a sympathetic smile. “She must have changed it since the last time we talked. It _has_ been a while.”

“Yeah. That must be it,” Lauren says, dejection swooping low in her stomach. “You haven’t got any other contact numbers for her?”

Dinah shakes her head. “I’ve long since lost any other Cabello phone numbers.”

“Cabello?” Lauren questions.

“Camila’s family name. Camila Cabello,” Dinah fills in.

Ally hums in thought. “Maybe she’s listed in the directory?”

After a quick online search, Dinah sighs disappointedly. “Nope. She’s not listed, and neither are her parents.”

Lauren slumps in her seat. Ally rubs her shoulder consolingly.

“I don’t know if her parents still live there, but I could give you the address that they lived at in Miami?” Dinah offers. She gives a timid smile when Lauren perks up at the new information. “It’s a pretty long way from here though…”

Lauren looks over to Ally. The decision is ultimately hers, of course.

Ally doesn’t even bat an eyelid. “You don’t even have to ask, Lauren.”

***

They spend the night at Dinah’s place and leave for Miami early the next morning. Dinah only allows them to go after Lauren promises to stay in contact with her.

Lauren hugs her tight and says, “I’ll probably keep in touch for real this time. Seeing as you’re one of the only people I actually know right now.”

Dinah rears back and pins her with an insulted look. Lauren smiles innocently at her. Ally shakes her head and leaves them to their goodbye, heading towards the car.

“That’s not the only reason and you know it. You love me,” Dinah insists.

Lauren pulls a faux confused expression. “I’m sorry, it must be the amnesia… I don’t seem to recall feeling that way-”

Dinah smacks her upside the head before she can finish the sentiment. “Maybe you’ll remember it now, hm?”

Lauren winces from the blow. “Or maybe I’ve just lost enough brain cells to be as smart as you.”

Dinah’s expression melts into something that Lauren can’t quite read before she hangs her head.

“Low blow Jauregui,” She says quietly. Lauren is two seconds away from apologising for taking the joke too far before Dinah looks up with a proud grin. “You’re finally starting to sound like your old self.”

“You _jerk_ ,” Lauren chastises, pushing at Dinah’s shoulder. “I almost believed you!”

Dinah waves her off. “I got thick skin. You know it’ll take more than that to get to me. Besides, Camila always liked prickly things – you included.”

Lauren shakes her head amusedly. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“Definitely an insult,” Dinah assures her. “I mean, there’s a reason I call you _Loser_ Jauregui-”

Lauren ignores her and pulls the woman in for another hug despite her obvious protests. “I’m gonna miss you, DJ.”

Dinah stills when the nickname escapes her lips. Lauren loosens her arms and looks at her questioningly.

“DJ?” Dinah repeats by way of explanation.

Lauren raises an eyebrow. “That’s your name, isn’t it? Well, I mean, I personally prefer calling you by your full name because _Dinah Jane_ sounds more sophisticated but Camz always called you DJ and I guess it must have rubbed off on me…”

Dinah simply waits for Lauren to realise and when she does, her jaw drops.

“Did I just remember something?” Lauren marvelled.

“You called me ‘DJ’ and Camila ‘Camz’,” Dinah confirms with twinkling eyes. “It’s not much but…”

“It’s something,” Lauren finishes, and a smile takes over her face. “I _remembered_ something. Oh my God. I love you, Dinah Jane.”

Dinah just smirks. “Told you that you loved me.”

Lauren sighs ruefully. “Way to ruin a moment, Hansen.”

***

The trip to Miami takes almost eleven hours. An accident on the I-75 involving a rolled truck delays them by an hour; four of the six lanes are blocked and traffic is forced to funnel through a single lane on either side of the highway. By the time they reach (what they hope is) the Cabello residence, it is already past sundown.

Lauren waits quietly outside the front door for a full minute. Ally doesn’t say a word, simply stands dutifully by her side.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Lauren admits at long last. She takes one step back from the door, physically distancing herself from the problem at hand.

Ally asks softly, “But isn’t this what you want? Enlightenment? Closure?”

“What if she’s not here? What if her parents don’t live here anymore?” Lauren counters. They are valid questions, but both girls know that she is merely deflecting. She has a gut feeling that this is where the journey will end.

“You won’t know unless you try.”

Ally is right, of course. Lauren tries to discreetly wipe her sweaty hands on the front of her pants before she steels her resolve and steps up to the door again. The rapping of her knuckles against the wood sounds like gunshots to her ears.

***

Sinu Cabello looks older than she should. That is Lauren’s first thought.

She has no mental image to compare her to, but Lauren knows instinctively that Camila’s mother should not look this haggard. Sadness has caused the lines by her mouth to deepen, the life in her eyes claimed by exhaustion. Lauren worries for her, this woman she has – for all intents and purposes – never met, but feels like she has known her whole life.

Her familiarity with things (albeit unconscious) came more readily after her and Dinah’s goodbye; it was as if the dam walls were finally beginning to crack and water was seeping through. She had enough instinctive knowledge to sing along to songs on the radio whilst Ally drove, to point out landmarks visible from the car window and know what they were without being told, to make bad jokes and laugh and say things like _‘Camila told me that one’_.

That is why Lauren knows that something is wrong. The Sinu before her does not reconcile with the one she feels she knows. Something has happened that she does not know about – or remember, amongst the veritable wealth of things that she also couldn’t recall – and she is more flummoxed than she was before.

Maybe this isn’t the end of the journey after all.

Sinu regards her with a mixture of concern and confusion. She doesn’t ask any questions though, just steps aside and waves both Ally and Lauren into the house.

If Lauren could remember, she would know that the doorstep before the Cabello house isn’t quite level and that the left side is slightly lower than the right. She would know that walking into the house with her left foot first requires a marginally higher step, lest she catch the tip of her shoe and trip. If she could remember any of this, she would not end up pitching headfirst into the hardwood floor of the entryway in her (former?) girlfriend’s parents’ house.

But Lauren _can’t_ remember these minute details, so that’s exactly what ends up happening to her.

***

_Lauren welcomes whatever fleeting moments of tranquillity she can find nowadays. She has come to learn that high schoolers can be just as immature as middle schoolers, and the highest bench of the bleachers offers the greatest vantage point of the empty track field. Even though it is bitingly cold outside, she appreciates the fact that the space she occupies is blissfully vacant._

_Well._ Almost _vacant._

_“Do you mind if I sit here?”_

_She knows that the question is directed at her. There is no one else eating lunch this far away from the cafeteria in the middle of winter, much less sitting outside._

_Lauren doesn’t even look at the girl. She simply moves her bag from the stretch of bench beside her and puts it between her feet instead. It is invitation enough, and the girl takes a seat._

_“No space left on the rest of the bleachers?” Lauren asks, glancing over at her new companion. It is a casual question, and she tries not to make it sound snappy; she knows that her prickly way of speaking tends to be off-putting._

_The girl ducks her head but Lauren catches her blush. “None of them are next to you though.”_

_Lauren doesn’t know what to say to that. She chews her lip to prevent the corners of her mouth from curling upward. Perhaps realising that Lauren isn’t going to bite her head off for what she said, the girl peeks up again and smiles shyly._

_“I’m Camila,” She says, offering her small hand._

_It’s awkward because of the angle and the fact that they are sitting next to each other – too close for two people who are barely acquaintances – but Lauren shakes her hand anyway. She introduces herself and proceeds to watch Camila out of the corner of her eye._

_She discerns that Camila is rather cute, with her doe eyes and wavy brown hair that falls attractively down her shoulders and back. Lauren’s, by comparison, is lank and unappealing. (She just doesn’t have the energy to style it every morning.) Her gaze drifts down to Camila’s mouth, to the bow of her top lip. Then the focus of her attention suddenly moves._

_“You’re doing that thing where you try to be subtle about looking but it’s actually really obvious,” Camila says teasingly._

_“No I’m not,” Lauren says defensively. She quickly switches her gaze to the sky and crosses her arms like a middle schooler, the exact thing she wants to disassociate herself from._

_Camila smiles in a way that tells Lauren she doesn’t believe a word of her lie._

_“It’s not like I’m not doing the same thing anyway,” Camila says brazenly._

_Lauren can feel it before it happens, like lightning before thunder. She flushes brilliantly and, well. Her pale complexion doesn’t hide anything. She is_ so _busted._

***

_They dance around each other for almost a year before something happens._

_The girls are in Camila’s backyard. Lauren is tending to Camila’s impressive collection of baby cacti – “They need to be watered at least once a week whilst they’re young,” Camila has told her – and Camila is watching from her chair, eyes peeking over the top of the book she is supposed to be reading for English Lit. Lauren knows this though._

_She purposefully catches Camila in the act but the girl merely smiles, tongue caught endearingly between her teeth. Lauren rolls her eyes fondly and continues watering her friend’s favourite plants. She is caught off guard when Camila sidles close to her – she hadn’t even heard her stand up, let alone come closer – and gently pries the watering can from her grasp. Camila puts it down and asks Lauren to look at her._

_Lauren complies easily. Camila’s eyes are mesmerizing at this distance, she notes._

_“It’s not just me, right?” Camila asks, almost bashfully. “You feel it too?”_

_Lauren nods, because of_ course _she does. Camila takes the lead then, as she always has, and closes the space between their lips. Lauren commits the feeling of Camila into her memory, the hands in her hair, the sharp intake of breath against her cheek, the warmth wrapped tenderly around her heart._

***

_They get a transfer student halfway through sophomore year. It piques Lauren’s interest – albeit momentarily – because her homeroom teacher’s announcement is finally something different from the usual humdrum._

_When the new girl sits at an empty seat near the front, signalling that her introduction to the class is over, Lauren’s eyes glaze over once more. The lack of interesting stimuli leads Lauren to question why the new girl transferred at all. Unfortunately, the bell rings before she gets a chance to properly exercise her creative liberties. It is not long before she finds out the actual truth though._

_Lauren is sitting with Camila at one of the outdoor cafeteria tables. It’s nearing the end of winter but is still somewhat cold outside, and most of their peers have chosen to sit inside. By virtue of a series of tall glass windows between the two halves of the cafeteria – indoor and outdoor – they can still see what’s going on inside. That’s how Camila notices the new girl._

_“Who’s that?” Camila asks as she steals a chicken nugget from Lauren’s tray._

_Lauren scowls at her girlfriend before turning to where she is gesturing with her free, non-nugget-stealing hand._

_“New girl,” She answers begrudgingly. “We’re in the same in homeroom.”_

_Lauren’s gaze becomes curious the longer she watches the new girl. She is standing with her shoulders hunched, looking as if she wants to fold herself into nothing – it’s a plea for invisibility if there ever was one. She’s also trying to weave her way to an empty table, one that is expressly reserved for the school bullies – not that she would know that yet – and that’s when Lauren’s eyebrows dip down._

_Camila expresses Lauren’s concerns. “Do you think she knows that she’s headed for Brad Simpson’s table?”_

_“Probably not.”_

_Camila looks at her then, and Lauren already knows that she will say yes. Camila seems to know that too, because she smiles brilliantly and bounces her way through the doors and over to where the new girl is three seconds away from sitting at the unassigned assigned cafeteria table._

_Camila returns with the new girl in tow, already chatting up a storm about something or other. Lauren doesn’t bother to introduce herself, just nods at the new girl in greeting. Camila rolls her eyes and Lauren spares a small smile, hidden behind her plastic fork. The new girl glances curiously between her new companions._

_“This is Lauren,” Camila introduces for her. “She can be kinda prickly sometimes, but I like her anyway. You’ll get used to her.”_

_Dinah Jane Hansen, once she introduces herself, turns out to be a perfect addition to their little group. After Lauren and Camila finally coax her from her shell, she reveals herself to be the childlike wonder that they didn’t know they had been missing._

***

_Neither of them says it, but they both know. Hell, all of their teachers and everyone that’s ever seen them together knows._

_It finally slips out when Lauren finds herself dancing stupidly at Camila’s request, their bodies glowing in the refrigerator light at 2am. Lauren is twirling Camila around, both of them singing along to a song that isn’t playing. Camila’s feet are socked, like always – the socks don’t match; again, like always – and she loses her footing as she spins on the tiled kitchen floor. Lauren just barely catches her and Camila looks up in her embrace, wide-eyed and utterly enamoured._

_They right themselves and close the refrigerator door when it begins to beep from being open so long. In the darkness, Lauren cannot see a thing and she blindly walks forward hoping to find a wall so they can guide themselves back to Camila’s bedroom. Instead of the kitchen wall, her outstretched fingers tangle in long locks of hair and she ends up with an armful of her girlfriend._

_Camila giggles, and it is light and joyful. Lauren doesn’t bother to hide her smile because the darkened room does that for her. She feels the soft press of lips on her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. When Camila reaches her final destination, Lauren sighs happily into the kiss._

_“I love you,” Camila mumbles into her mouth, the warmth of her confession heating Lauren up like a hot air balloon and lifting her away._

***

_The end of senior year is a whirlwind. Between studying for AP exams, helping Dinah deconstruct her mostly-doodles-but-sometimes-informative notes, being an attentive girlfriend to Camila, and spending time with her family, Lauren is mentally and emotionally drained._

_It’s no surprise when she finally snaps under all the pressure._

***

_Dinah tries to explain that she needs to leave Camila alone, that the girl has her reasons for keeping secrets. Lauren yells at her and tells her to mind her own business. She feels a stab of guilt when Dinah ducks her head and mumbles that she has go home, even though they have just arrived at Lauren’s house for their study session. Lauren hasn’t even pulled her books from her bag yet._

_Lauren just doesn’t understand why Camila won’t tell her which colleges she has applied to. Lauren herself had already been accepted into Columbia University under Early Decision, and she’d like to know how far she’ll have to travel to visit her girlfriend – there are no ifs or buts about it because she_ will _be visiting Camila, no matter where the two of them end up._

_She brings it up again the next time she is over at Camila’s house. Yet again, Camila is silent when Lauren questions where she has sent her college applications. Lauren eventually throws her hands up in defeat. She doesn’t want to fight, and this looks like it will turn into their first major argument._

_“I give up. If you won’t tell me, I’m gonna go home because honestly, we’re just going in circles and I can’t bear to fight with you-”_

_“Columbia,” Camila finally says, her voice small and withdrawn._

_“What about Columbia?” Lauren asks confusedly. The topic of her future university had been well worn out after her Early Decision acceptance._

_“I applied to Columbia as well,” Camila says, eyes downcast. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to get your hopes up, just in case the admissions board doesn’t think I’m as good as you-”_

_Lauren cuts her off, incredulity lacing her tone. “Don’t downplay your grades, Camz. Everyone knows I’m an overachiever but paired with a well-written essay, your academic history is more than enough to get you into a good school – Columbia included.”_

_Camila says nothing, so Lauren continues. Her tone is much softer now. “I don’t mean to sound conceited, but you didn’t apply to Columbia just to be with me, did you?”_

_Camila bites her lip and Lauren’s face falls. “Camz, you know I love you. But you can’t decide your future based on what I’m doing. That’s what we promised each other when college applications began, remember?”_

_“I remember. And I won’t lie – It did cross my mind,” Camila admits. “But I’m not doing this just for you.”_

_Lauren raises a brow. Camila explains further._

_“Columbia is one of the schools I was looking into anyway. It’s an Ivy League school that offers a wide range of majors – including medicine, which I may or may not be interested in.”_

_“Penn, Harvard, Dartmouth, Yale, Brown, Cornell,” Lauren lists pointedly. “Those are all the other Ivies that offer medical schools.”_

_Camila smiles. “None of them have you though.”_

_Lauren sighs. “That’s exactly what I was afraid of.”_

_“That I would apply for an amazing Ivy League university?” Camila asks jokingly. She tentatively steps forward and, when Lauren does not push her away, she loops her arms loosely around her neck. “Tough break, hm? A really great school in the heart of New York City – where I’ve always wanted to live, you of all people know that – which just so happens to be where my girlfriend is going? That seems like a really hard decision to make…”_

_Lauren scrunches her nose before wriggling a hand between their bodies and clamping it over Camila’s mouth._

_“I get it, you made the choice out of your own volition,” She rolls her eyes when Camila licks her palm and forces her to drop it. “Sue me if I don’t want my girlfriend to have any regrets and grow to resent me for choosing a school that she didn’t want to go to in the first place.”_

_Camila smiles then, soft and sweet, and nudges her nose against Lauren’s. She is accepting Lauren’s unspoken apology, and Lauren almost smiles in return. She tries to keep her breathing steady but she knows that Camila can feel the irregularity of her heartbeat._

_Later, when they are tucked away in Camila’s bedroom and have made sure that no one else is home, Camila giggles into her mouth and Lauren swears that this girl will be the death of her._

_(“Dinah knew, didn’t she?” Lauren asks when they have (more than) kissed and made up. Camila tells her that she requested Dinah to keep her application to Columbia a secret for the time being, because she didn’t want to jump the gun without confirmation that she’d been accepted. Lauren sighs and reaches for her phone so that she can apologise to their best friend. Dinah forgives her, but she also takes the opportunity to tell them both how hard it is to be their best friend. Lauren and Camila feel guilty for putting Dinah in that position and promise that there will be no more secrets.)_

***

_Lauren never had any doubt that Camila could get into Columbia. When the time comes for them to finally move to New York City, they are happier than they have ever been despite being nearly literally broke. (Renting an apartment in Upper Manhattan is no easy feat, even with financial aid from both sets of parents.)_

_As they approach the Florida/Georgia border on the I-75, where there is nothing to see but green for miles, Lauren looks over at Camila. She is curled up as much as she can in the passenger seat, with Fluffy the baby cactus – wrapped in a protective “sweater” for his safety as well as Camila’s – sitting in her lap. Even in sleep, Camila is the picture of perfection._

_Lauren wonders just what she’s gotten herself into._

_All the same, she hopes that her future memories will always include Camila._

***

 _They visit Dinah on the way to New York – it’s not_ really _on the way, but they make the trip anyway because Dinah is worth it – and spend a couple of days catching up with her. She has been accepted into Atlanta Technical College after a frantic last-minute application, and is currently living with one of her many family members that are scattered across the country._

_They have to say their goodbyes soon enough though, and they try to keep things light-hearted to belie the melancholy of being separated by distance for the foreseeable future._

_“I love you, DJ,” Camila says affectionately. There is a tear threatening to spill from the corner of her eye but both her best friend and her girlfriend know better than to comment on it, lest the tear actually fall._

_“Shh, your girlfriend is right there,” Dinah says conspiratorially, and Lauren rolls her eyes playfully._

_“Come on, Camz. The clock’s ticking, and we have to get into the next city before midnight,” Lauren says flippantly._

_Dinah’s jaw drops. “What, no goodbye?”_

_“Aw, are you asking for a hug?” Lauren teases, but approaches Dinah with her arms open anyway. Dinah grumbles a bit before sinking into her embrace._

_“I’m gonna miss you, Dinah Jane.” Lauren says this quietly into her ear. If Camila hears them being affectionate with each other, the waterworks will start and they’ll never be able to leave._

_Dinah squeezes her tightly one last time. “You too, Lauser.”_

***

_They are meant to stop at a motel in Washington D.C. but Camila sees a sign that proclaims that Baltimore, Maryland is not too far from where they are headed and she urges Lauren to keep driving so that they can spend the night there instead._

_As soon as they cross the town line, Camila breaks out into song and, honestly, Lauren should have known that the girl had ulterior motives for making her drive the few extra miles._

_“Good morning Baltimooore!”_

_Lauren doesn’t hesitate to interrupt and say that it’s 9 o’clock at night, but Camila doesn’t really care at all. She has a singular purpose in that moment, and Lauren is almost powerless in stopping her._

***

 _“For the last time, Camila – no, you cannot sit on top of the car while I drive, because it’s_ dangerous _. I don’t care if Tracy Turnblad did it, I’m not letting you- Camila, wait- don’t- you can’t! Stop!”_

***

 _Lauren parks the car in a lot where there are only a couple of other cars. She refuses to continue driving until Camila promises that she won’t attempt to climb out the window to re-enact the opening scene of_ Hairspray _again._

_Camila relents after a few seconds of Lauren glowering. She redirects the conversation to her growing hunger pains._

_“Can we please find some place to eat and then go to a motel?” The brown-eyed girl pleads. “You know how I get when I’m hungry_ and _tired.”_

_Lauren nods stiffly. She pulls her phone from her pocket to look for a nearby 24-hour diner – it’s already pretty late – but frowns when she discovers that her battery is dead. She slips it back into her jeans and takes a moment to inspect their surroundings, hoping that maybe there will be a sign to direct them towards food or shelter. Maybe even both._

_She needn’t look far to find the first. They have conveniently parked in a lot outside a diner that appears to still be open, if the lights are any indication. Lauren hopes that_ Mama Babs _hasn’t closed up shop yet, because she doesn’t feel like driving in circles to find another restaurant that’s still open._

***

_Thankfully, the diner is still open and willing to serve them. The only waitress on duty – Normani, she introduces herself – is friendly and Lauren bites back a smile at how well she and Camila get along. When Normani retreats to the kitchen to grab their orders, Lauren brings up the topic of their dwindling funds._

_They only had so much to spend on gas and food and accommodation for their road trip to New York; the detour to Dinah’s place in Atlanta set them back a bit in terms of fuel money, and Lauren isn’t sure that they can afford another night at a motel – not if they want their car to make the journey with them._

_Normani happens to overhear them discussing their financial issues as she brings out their meals, and she generously offers them a place for the night. She reveals that she’s the owner of the diner – and subsequently the apartment above it – and Lauren cannot thank her enough for helping them._

***

_They finally reach New York and quickly establish a routine. Lauren gets a waitressing job at a restaurant near campus and Camila does odd jobs through a temp agency. They budget carefully and somehow manage to wrangle enough money for regular coffee orders and the occasional take-out meal._

_When the university semester starts, Camila leaves early for her morning classes and returns to the apartment at midday with coffee from across the street. She wakes Lauren in time to get ready for her afternoon classes, and sends her off with her macchiato and a kiss goodbye. Later on, they text each other what they want for dinner, and if neither of them feels like cooking, Lauren stops on the way home from class to pick something up._

_It’s domestic as fuck, and Lauren absolutely loves it. Everything is utterly perfect._

_Until there is a gas leak in their building and they are forced to undergo an emergency evacuation._

***

_All of the tenants are given a (very) small sum of money to cover alternative accommodation while the building is checked. Lauren and Camila have not budgeted for a crisis, so they take their landlord’s poor attempt at a payout and make their way to the nearest, cheapest hotel they can find._

_Thankfully, the hotel receptionist is sympathetic to their plight and offers them a decent room at a reasonable price. Once the finances are dealt with, Camila proclaims that she is too tired to walk up to their room after having walked from the apartment, so Lauren heaves a sigh and offers her a piggyback ride. Camila almost squeals at the opportunity and jumps onto Lauren with so much enthusiasm that Ally – the receptionist – has to stifle a giggle._

_When Camila is safely situated on her back, Lauren glances at the luggage by their feet and purses her lips. Ally sees the problem too – if Lauren is carrying Camila then she can’t possibly take their luggage as well – so she offers her assistance._

_Lauren smiles but shakes her head._

_“It’s okay; you have your own job to do. Besides, I like taking care of her.”_

_Ally smiles at her then, and Lauren blushes at how utterly smitten she sounds. Camila says nothing about the admission, just kisses the back of her head._

_Lauren carefully manoeuvres her way to their assigned room, pries herself from Camila’s grip when the girl inevitably drags her down onto the bed, and doubles back downstairs for their luggage. She smiles at Ally when she reaches the reception desk, and makes a mental note to tip her as much as she can when they check out._

***

 _Back in the comfort of their own apartment after being given the all clear by the landlord, Lauren lies in bed with Camila in her arms. They talk about nothing in particular – whether they could afford Netflix if they cut back on their coffee consumption, how long it would take to walk through the middle of Times Square during peak hour, what differences there are between the_ Harry Potter _books and movies – before they sink into a comfortable silence. Lauren almost falls asleep._

_“I just want this,” Camila admits out of nowhere. “Us. Forever.”_

_“Me too,” Lauren responds sleepily. “If I can’t have this, then I don’t want anything at all.”_

***

Lauren comes to with a groan. Almost everything is back now, almost every memory restored – the first time she met Camila; their first kiss; their first ‘I love you’; their first fight; their first road trip; their first apartment; the first time she realised that all she wanted was to be with Camila forever.

Naturally, Lauren still cannot for the life of her remember what _happened_ to Camila, or how she herself ended up in the hospital. But everything is almost back to normal now.

Lauren is still lying facedown on the hardwood floor of the entryway to the Cabello house. Sinu is saying her name repeatedly, trying to wheedle a response from her. Ally’s hand is a steady presence on her shoulder. She rolls over with a grunt, and accepts their help to stand up. Sinu gently ushers her towards the living room and deposits her on the couch before promptly heading to the kitchen to fetch an icepack for her head.

Lauren turns to Ally and says without preamble, “I remember almost everything now.”

Ally almost gasps and then, in a probable attempt to distract from the tears welling up in her eyes, she jokes, “If I’d known that all it took was another knock to the head to get you back, I’d have asked Dinah before we left Atlanta!”

Lauren smiles, albeit reluctantly, and accepts the side hug that Ally gives her. When Sinu returns with the icepack, Lauren gingerly presses it to her forehead and once again retells the story of her amnesia.

***

“… That’s all I remember,” She finishes eventually. “I can recall everything up until about a year ago, I’d say. From then on, it’s just blank.”

When Lauren says ‘about a year ago’, Sinu breaks eye contact and does not meet her gaze again. Lauren furrows her brow and asks what’s wrong. Sinu doesn’t answer, so Lauren presses further.

“What’s wrong? What happened a year ago?”

The silence hangs between them like an oppressive fog. Lauren is quickly growing agitated by the lack of response when Sinu decides to answer.

“Lauren, mija…” She begins, somewhat reluctant to continue.

Lauren glowers impatiently. “Yes?”

Sinu takes a deep breath and finally says, “A year ago… that’s when Camila got into an accident. There was- there was nothing they could do to save her.”

The fog dissipates and suddenly everything is crystal clear, but Lauren can still feel the thick air clogging her senses.

***

_Lauren is waiting for Camila to return from a one-off temp job somewhere upstate when she gets the call. They have been listed as each other’s first emergency contacts since they moved to New York, but she never expected for it to be used. Where Camila is, she will be too – that’s how it is supposed to be. There should be no need for her first emergency contact to be called._

_She arrives at the hospital with a pea coat tossed over her pyjamas and a sinking feeling in her chest. The doctor asks if she is Camila Cabello’s partner and then guides her to a small room built for conversations like the one she is about to engage in. He tells her that Camila was in a car accident on the interstate – a truck driver misjudged the length of his vehicle and clipped the front of her car while changing lanes in front of her. Their small car stood no chance against the impact; it careened through the barrier and over the edge of the small cliff._

_By the time emergency services got to Camila, the car had been full of water for more than ten minutes._

_Lauren just nods as the doctor speaks, because what else is there to say?_

_Camila is gone and that means Lauren is gone too. That is how it is supposed to be._

***

_Lauren allows herself six months to mourn. She is hollow afterwards, her tears have drained her of everything she has and there is nothing she can do but sob dryly. It is with this emptiness that she resolves to go._

_She has seen Sinu and Alejandro come by the apartment and sorrowfully go through their dead daughter’s things to decide what to keep and what to throw. Lauren doesn’t want her parents to have to do the same, so she decides to pack all her things into boxes and burn those that make her_ Lauren _. She can’t be Lauren without Camila, not really._

_Despite the fact that they have not been living there that long, they have amassed quite the collection of things. It takes Lauren months to go through everything properly. At long last though, she sorts through them all and packs methodically. The apartment looks blank without any of their personal effects._

_She puts her clothes and shoes into boxes, tucks their emergency roll of cash in amongst the things. Camila’s parents have missed some of her things, so she puts those in a separate box._

_There is a framed picture of her and Camila that Dinah took at the end of sophomore year; she puts it face down on the kitchen table because she can’t bear to look at Camila’s smiling face and remember that she is gone._

_Lauren empties her wallet of everything but some cash and a picture of her and Camila in front of their apartment, where Camila is holding Fluffy the baby cactus (who now resides on the windowsill outside). She doesn’t want to get rid of the picture, but she doesn’t want to look at it either, so she folds it over and pushes it back into the photo holder._

_(She also discovers a small slip of paper with their address in the wallet and almost smiles. She had taken to hiding similar papers in all of Camila’s belongings because the girl had a tendency to lose almost everything, and she realises with a pang that ‘her’ wallet is actually Camila’s wallet; it’s a harsh reminder that what’s hers is Camila’s and what’s Camila’s is hers, and she will always be Camila’s but Camila is no longer hers. Lauren decides to tuck the paper back into the wallet anyway. A place for everything and everything in its place.)_

***

_Lauren takes a taxi to the place where she lost Camila. There are traffic cones blocking the broken barrier that their car crashed through but Lauren ignores them and goes to stand where Camila fell. She tucks the almost empty wallet into her pocket, closes her eyes and toes the edge of the cliff. She wonders whether jumping will fill the hole in her chest where Camila had made a home._

_She knows that it won’t._

_It isn’t until she remembers the promise she made to Camila – that they wouldn’t decide their futures based solely on the other person – that Lauren decides to re-evaluate the situation._

_If the roles were reversed, she wouldn’t want Camila to do what she is thinking of doing. The thought alone is enough to make her take a step back. But as she shifts on her heel to spin around, the blaring of a car horn startles her and she slips – straight over the edge of the cliff._

***

_The fall doesn’t take as long as she thought it would, and the landing is harder than she expects. The water feels excruciatingly like solid ground but Lauren hasn’t got the capacity to think much further than that. The pain blurs the edges of her vision before she can realise that she’s not submerged beneath the water like she should be, and she fades out._

***

This new revelation is overwhelming, and Lauren can hardly breathe.

She brushes away Ally’s gentle hands, waves off Sinu’s heartfelt apologies. She just needs space, and she needs it now. Preferably _before_ she breaks down.

Lauren runs out the front door. She claws at the suddenly restricting material of her shirt, desperate for air. Her chest is aching and the tears are burning her eyes and she doesn’t know what to do or where to go. So caught up in her grief, she doesn’t realise that she’s run onto the road outside the Cabello house.

She doesn’t see the car until it’s too late. Bad things happen in threes, you see.

***

She wakes up in a white room with no memory of how she got there, where she is, or who she is – all she can remember is the name Camila, and soft brown eyes. When a girl comes into the room with a tender smile and a gentle gaze that she would recognise anywhere, she immediately knows that this is _her_.

This is the girl. This is Camila.

But this time, when everything comes rushing back, when all the memories flood into her mind, there are no accidents. There is no falling from a cliff, or being hit by a car. There is nothing that can hurt her now, not here.

Death cannot take a person twice.

Lauren takes Camila’s outstretched hand and waits for her to take a step. Because that’s the way that they always have been, and the way that they always will be. Where Camila goes, Lauren will follow.

Always.


End file.
